These Bonds, They Grow
by minimonsterx7
Summary: Post MockingJay. Peeta's Pov of coming back to district 12 and falling back into sync with Katniss. R&R!
1. Chapter 1

**Okay, so hello! Well this as stated in the summary will be my version of what happens between coming home and our favorite couple having kids, from Peeta's POV. This is going to be my summer project so until June, I'm going to try and update as frequently as possible but with no such schedule. But when summer rolls around I'll be updating weekly. So there ya go. Enjoi  
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It takes six months. Six months in district thirteen in which I waver between being so excited to go home, to so violently disgusted by the thought I get sick. This in hindsight is probably why they kept me there for so long. I go through more therapy than I would have thought necessary during my duration in thirteen. Every day is committed to it. Some of it is physical, like for the burns I received all over the right side of my body during the bombing of the capital. New pink skin is painted on to me, I think they call it graft, and I am commanded to stay still for 2 long weeks. Not that I would move anyway, it hurt too bad. But mostly my therapy is mental. The doctors and I spend all the time we can sorting through my memories, every memory I have, and determine which are real and which are not. I'm pleased that majority of my memories seem to be real, and the longer my doctors and I work on them the more memories that come back. I come to find that over time distinguishing my memories gets easier because those that were … affected by the capital have a shiny texture to them. Like when I think of Katniss stabbing me her face and eyes glow, so unrealistically I know that it is fake. My flash backs come less frequently as time and therapy go on. But much to my dismay the doctors inform me that these flashbacks I have worked so hard to repress will always be a part of me, I will have them all my life. However, I learn I can keep "Bad Peeta", as I call him, from taking over if I list all the truths I am 100% sure of in my head. _My name is Peeta Mellark. I am 18 years old. I bake. I paint. I survived the Hunger Games. Katniss Everdeen is my friend._

Slowly but surely some small amount of feeling for Katniss weasels its way back into my system. It's not the same as before. I do not love her, but there is something there. It becomes harder and harder to not think of her, sometimes dwelling on parts our past that anger or annoy me, but mostly I reflect on the few true moments we had together. Like our nights on the train, or the week we added onto her familys book.

It is in the middle of June when Doctor Wyse cuts of my medical bracelet that claims I am mentally unstable and tells that I am finally cleared to go back to district 12. He tells me I should try and fall into a routine, keep things normal, call him once a week, and only spend as much time with Katniss as I can handle. I agree to his conditions eagerly before I ask him for one final favor, that a dozen or so Primroses be sent home on the train with me so that I can bury them in her honor. I had the idea ever since I heard the news, but when I went to voice them Katniss I was told she had been moved back to district 12. I didn't know how to feel about that, so I choose to do something the old Peeta never would, ignore my feelings altogether. Wyse agrees easily and everything is arranged for my trip home.

The flowers sit next to me on the train and I think of her. Of prim, laughing and dancing with me in the kitchen the day she begged me to help her make a cake for her cats birthday. It took all day to make the cake to Prim's specifications but it was fun. I miss her. The little girl who was more of a little sister to me than anyone I had ever met. She was so pure, so innocent, and so full of life. But her life is done, cut too short. I let a tear fall from eye before I can stop myself. I can only imagine the pain Katniss has gone through; knowing that the only person she ever really loved will never come back to her. My heart breaks for her. But we've both lost family, I however, lost all of mine. None of them survived the bombing. They're gone too. Sometimes I don't know whether I still hold Katniss accountable for this.

The rain ride takes 3 days, but I'm glad for the alone time, I wallow in self pity and by the time I get off the train in district 12 I think I can handle this. But I am not prepared for shear destruction that awaits me. There is nothing left but the crumbling frames of houses that were burnt down. The entire ground is buried in ash, and I can't but to think that as much of the ash is dedicated to wood and brick, a small amount of it is flesh and blood. The thought repulses me and bring the collar of my shirt up to my mouth to keep from breathing it all in. I decided that my first stop when I got here would be straight to my house in victor's village to shower and drop off my small suitcase. I try, I try so hard to keep my eyes straight ahead, push the wheelbarrow full of roses and concentrate on the unscratched mansions ahead. But the closer I get to the heart of the town, the harder it gets. At first I glance fleetingly at a collapsed building here and there, but my glances get longer and by the time I'm in front of the bakery, my stride falters. _You'll have to face it eventually _ I tell myself. _But right now? Am I ready for this? Is it too soon? There's only one way to find out_. I close my eyes and count to 10 before reopening them to look at the remains of home.

At first I don't even see the rubble that was the bakery. I see the life I lived there, the life my family lived, fleeting memories that are so bitter sweet. Challah teaching me to wrestle the first day I got in a fight and lost. Samuel teaching me the perfect way to pick up a girl. Staying up past bedtime with them both and telling scary stories until I was shaking in fear. The first time my mother hit me, when my farther held me in his lap and let me cry my eyes out against his shirt. Walking hand and hand with him on my first day of school. Decorating my first cake, which brought on a rare moment of pride from my mother and a smile I never, had the privilege of seeing again. The memories crush me with such a force that my legs give out from underneath me and I fall to the ground. They're probably still in there but I can't bring myself to look. My brain succumbs to a deep black hole where the only things I see are the dead. My family burning alive, Finnick being eaten by mutts, rue being stabbed, Portia being shot, prim blowing up, Michelle dying because of me, Mags running into the mist, the morphling sister throwing herself in front of me. The yell to me to help and as the sobs shake me I know I can't. There's nothing I can do now. They're gone. Dead. All too young. All my fault.

It might be minutes, hours, maybe even days later that I finally cry myself dry and am able to concentrate on the things around me again. The crying tired me out though and it takes much more energy than normal to push myself up. But I do. I try to find something solid to concentrate my thoughts on, something that won't remind me that everyone is dead. Well not everyone. And there it is a sliver of hope. Katniss isn't dead, she's fine. Well maybe not fine but she's alive. I saved her. She's alive because of me, and maybe the same can be said for her. I take a deep breath and exhale; I should probably be getting to her house now. I know she isn't expecting me but it still feels like I'm late for an occasion. I take one last look and whisper quietly _I love you. I am so sorry. _ And I know this is the closet to closure I will get.

I take my time pushing the wheelbarrow up to victors village and I debate whether I should go home first or just go straight to the Everdeen household. I choose the latter because it seems rude to keep Prim's memorial waiting any longer. I make my way over to the side of the house and concentrate wholly on my actions to keep the thoughts of death away. Shovel. Dig. Plant. Water. Repeat.

About 7 flowers in I hear a door open and I am broken from my reprieve. _ Here goes nothing_ I think to myself as I see Katniss make her way to side of the house. My first thought is shock. She's so …small, fragile even. The skin is drawn so tight around her bones I'm afraid it might tear. Her eyes once large and grey are now vacant and sunken deeply into her skull. Her hair is much shorter, and slick against her head with grease. I can make out the faint hint of scars at her wrist. I'm disgusted. Who's been taking care of her? Probably Haymich that drunken bastard. He should have helped her, atleast made sure she was eating. I should have been here, I could have helped her. The first thing on my to-do list is to make her eat so much bread, she's fat. I look up cautiously from assessment to meet Katniss stare when I notice she's angry. No, she's pissed, it's clear by the way she's shaking with her hands balled up at her sides, maybe she's thinking the same thing I am, that I should have been there to take care of her. But before I can voice an apology her face falls in confusion, her eyes flickering between myself and the primroses almost comically. I hold back a chuckle because I am well aware that something like that would result in more anger on her part. The doctors warned me she'd be unstable, I'd have to be careful with my actions. "I thought we could plant them. For her." She says nothing. We stare at each other for a while before the corners of her lips turn up slightly. Not a smile but almost one. She nods and heads back inside. I can feel my own smile as I finish planting, and it hurts my cheeks. I'm vaguely aware of a shower turning on in the distance but I'm too busy replaying Katniss almost smile in my head. I'm taken aback by the fact that I want to see more of it, a real smile, I want to hear her laugh again. It takes me awhile to put a name on what I'm feeling but by the time I'm done planting and walking up the front steps of my house I've decide on longing. I've missed her. But I know better, things will never be same between us, but I won't give up on us.

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**Oh Peeta. Well wadda ya think? Rviews are always much appreciated, especially if you have any helpful hints for better capturing Peeta's personality.  
Oh and also like always reviews = shout outs!  
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	2. Chapter 2

**Kitty In Boots thanks for your review, especially since you were my one and only. I tried breaking up the dialogue more. **

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_Do I even want to get close to Katniss again? _ I ask myself as I make my way across the porch of the house and towards the door. _What if it ends bad? What if I hurt her? _ I lean my head against the front door for a moment listening to the argument going on inside me. _Maybe you want to hurt her, maybe that's why you want to be friends again. No, I would never hurt Katniss. You've strangled her before, you can do it again. _It's no use. This isn't a problem I can solve on my own , I need to talk to Katniss, who's to say she even wants to be my friend anyway? . Huffing in frustration I punch the door, push away from its cool surface, and walk inside slowly dropping my suitcase by the door. I'm almost shocked to see my house exactly the way I left it before the quarter quall. Could it really have been that short ago that I was here? It can't be it feels like a lifetime ago, an entirely different Peeta.  
My folded laundry still sits in the basket by the staircase, waiting to be carried up to my room. My eyes roam the first floor slowly, taking in everything. My apron still hangs at a lopsided angle from its hook from when I threw it up there after baking. A picture of me Katniss smiling at each other on the victory tour sitting on the coffee table from the evening I starred at it and cried, mourning the love never returned, and the chance of a possible life with her I was losing by scarifying myself for her. The only change is a thin layer of dust coating every surface, other than that the house remains untouched.  
Suddenly I'm angry; if my family had just taken me up on my offer to live here they might still be alive._ They would have been _working _at the bakery anyway Peeta. _ATLEAST THEY WOULD HAVE STOOD A CHANCE! I scream at myself. It's all just too much and I don't know what to do. This house I never even liked left so perfect, where the home I loved is a pile of rubble in the middle of town. I reach out to support myself on the closet thing but it ends up crashing to the ground. The movement feels right however, almost freeing.  
Abruptly I'm running through the house lashing out at everything I can wrap my sturdy hands around. Smashing it to the ground, jumping on it if it isn't fractured enough for my liking and occasionally pegging it at the nearest wall for emphasis. By the time I've tired myself out the house is destroyed, I fumble backwards towards the dearest wall sliding down until I'm sitting on the ground and take pride in my work. The floor is hardly visible covered in rubbish and I know I'll have to clean it up later but I can't deny the fact that I feel better. _When did I become so violent? You know when._ _When did i become so bipolar? You know when._My father always said it was okay to talk to yourself, but when you started answering yourself you had a problem. Terrific. Before I can delve deeper into conversations with myself there's a knock at the door and suddenly I'm panicked. _What if it's Katniss? She can't see me like this. She'll think I'm nuts. _Just as I'm making the decision to hide in the nearest closet and wait her out Haymich barges in, reminding me I should lock the door.

"You know if you wanted to pretend you weren't home, you could have started with not breaking every piece of glass like a bull." He slurs reeking of white wine and sweat. For a millisecond I'm relieved, happy almost that it was Haymich instead of Katniss at my door but then I remember her disheveled state and I'm livid. "this place is a mess" he tacks on.

"Oh yes let me start taking housekeeping tips from the man who can't even remember to take a shower." I retort sarcastically. "or call his neighbor for 5 seconds and make sure she's, oh I don't know, BREATHING!" Katniss could have been dead for all he knew, who's to say he would care.

"I would have smelled the body" he winks. My facial expression murderous as it is must be enough to enlighten him I'm not in the joking mood. "Okay okay boy, sorry, I've just been …busy"

It's the first time I really look at Haymich and it's almost enough to make me feel bad for being so impolite. His once bulky starchier has shrunk and though he's not nearly as malnourished as Katniss, he's close. His blonde hair is too long and greasy, and his breathing too labored. His hands shake so hard I think he might be having a seizure. The bags under his eyes indicate he's been avoiding sleep for too long and suddenly I know what he means by busy, busy avoiding the past, the nightmares sure to engulf his future. What a messed up trio we are.

"Well" I start taking on a lighter tone "I'm back, I'll take care of her now" Though I'm sure me being her caretaker will only anger her, so I'll have to take a more subtle approach. For a moment Haymiches eyes flash with an emotion I cannot read.

"Now you listen here boy, that's what I came here to talk to you about." He voice is suddenly much stronger "you lay one hand on that girl and I'll-"

"Haymich" I interrupt. I shouldn't be so mad that he's voicing my own thought from earlier, but I am. He's just looking out for her. _A little late for that._How dare he imply I would hurt Katniss again, the very thought repulses me. And just like that my worries from earlier seem silly, I know I won't hurt her, because I'd rather be tortured and killed 20 times over than put her in any kind of pain ever again. Her or Haymich, they're the only family I have left. And ill protect this family like I couldn't protect my own. "I won't hurt her. I can't." He studies me for a moment before deciding my sincerity is enough.

"Greasy Sae makes her dinner every night at 7. I'm sure our little mockingjay will hate the company, but hell what doesn't she hate nowadays." Haymich mumbles more to himself than me as he walks down my porch and into the front yard. I nod curtly in appreciation before closing the door. I can't exactly just show up uninvited, and I'm more than positive Katniss won't invite me so that leaves Greasy Sae. Time to put my plan in motion.  
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At 6:30 after I've showered and tidied the house up a bit I think I have a pretty fool proof plan of getting myself invited to dinner. I baked 3 loafs of bread, 2 I leave on Haymiches window sill in hopes he'll eat them and restore a little health and calories to his system. The last I carry with me as I wake my way into what's left of the town, covering my nose and mouth with the collar of my shirt as I did earlier in the day. I don't know exactly where Greasy Sae lives but I know her home to be near where the Hob once stood so I make my way in that general direction. Just as I'm about to start panicking about not being able to find her, I spot her in the streets making her way to Katniss' carring a large pot, hauling along a young girl who does not seem in her right mind. But than again neither am, so who am I judge.

"Greasy Sae!" I yell making my way over to her

"Well if it isn't young Peeta Mellark home in district 12" She smiles a toothless grin at me.

"Home sweet home" I reply smiling back sweetly "I understand that you serve Katniss dinner every night" I begin innocently "I made her some bread, and I was wondering if you'd take it to her" I finish holding out the bread to her.

"Hayley!" She yells to the young girl "take the bread from this young man" she says turning to walk, leaving me behind. _Oh no. No no no no. This wasn't how it was suppose to happen. She was supposed to reward my act of kindness with an invitation to dinner. Fool proff mu ass, Peeta. Katniss must have told her not too. I use to be so good with words, but where are my words now? They're dead and gone like everything else in this god forsaken place, that's where they are_. I'm suddenly flooded with embarrassment and while I'm about to turn around and head in the opposite direction of Victors Village Greasy Sae grabs my attention.

"Well are you coming or not!" She yells facing me. At first I don't understand and stare at her letting the question sink in before nodding and running up to meet her. "Carry this" She says shoving the pot at me "I'm too old for this".

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**YAY CHAPTER 2! I wish i could update more, but i don't have a computer anymore, so HEEELLLO LIBRARY. So how's my "trying to be Peeta" going? Good? Bad? I just think that right now Peeta is so fucked up he has no idea how to feel or what to say. And he talks to himself alot, that way he can work things out with himself. Crazy little nutcase that he is. Okay well review, i alwaaaaaays lobe helpful advice. Thanks for those reading, & show some loveee. and i dont why this whole thing is in italics. The doc manager says its not but than the live preview is. waaah.**


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